


Dust and Memories

by BatsAreFluffy



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Further adventures of, I needed tissues while writing this, M/M, Referenced Time War (Doctor Who), Totally inspired by my wedding dance song, i see the light, memorial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24442594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsAreFluffy/pseuds/BatsAreFluffy
Summary: Jack rarely asked for any particular planet or time when he travelled with the Doctor. He was happy just running on any old planet, asteroid, space station or creepy crawling living ship thing that the Tardis landed on, so long as the Doctor was running with him."Can I make a request?,” it was such an innocent little question, the Doctor thought to himself as he followed Jack through a market in mid-afternoon frenzy. Such an innocent, easy to answer, question, one that almost made you feel guilty for saying no to, even before he heard itaka: a memorial for the victims of the Time War
Relationships: Tenth Doctor & Jack Harkness
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Dust and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from ff.net, from my old name ladyravena

Jack rarely asked for any particular planet or time when he travelled with the Doctor. He was happy just running on any old planet, asteroid, space station or creepy crawling living ship thing that the Tardis landed on, so long as the Doctor was running with him. It was the thrill, the adrenalin rush, the excitement that the Time Lord was able to infect everyone around him with that made it all that much more fun, even with things shooting, shouting, and chasing them all over creation. Especially when things were chasing, shooting, and shouting at them.

Okay, now he thought about it, that living ship thing had been a bit weird.

Overall, though, Jack rarely had any inclination of any desire to go anywhere specific.

The Doctor had been quieter than normal the last few landings. Nothing he would talk about, nothing that Jack could figure out or point to that might have upset the touchy Time Lord. They’d beaten the odds for the most part, and won the day for the last several adventures, so he should have been bouncing like when the ex-Time Agent had first been brought on board the Tardis, while a blue eyed 900 year old alien finally admitted he could dance. _So why_ , Jack mused as he watched his friend half-heartedly messing with the buttons in front of him, _are you acting like the world ended and all that remains is dust and memories?_

“Doc, you feeling alright?” Jack asked casually, leaning with his back to the console, facing the Doctor.

The Doctor shrugged a little, more a twitch of one shoulder and a dip of his head. “I’m fine, Jack.” There was little emotion in the standard lie, no immediate bouncing back to manic.

“Well, you look beat, frankly.”

“Thanks.”

Jack smirked at the dryness of the tone. 150 years and a regeneration ago would have seen a comment about his tree-dwelling ancestors. Now, he just shifted his way around the console, ignoring Jack’s subtle inching over as well.

“I think the last time I slept was just before we landed on Nodlon XXI, wasn’t it? That was a few planets ago, and as I sleep just about as much as you do now, I’d say we’re both up for a nap.” Jack put just a hint of a suggestion into his tone, just to test…

“Jack.”

There it was, the classic response, but hardly with the same playfulness. Jack ignored the rebuke. “Well, I think that these old bones need a nap. You should think about it. After all that dancing at their Homecoming Festival,” Jack said, watching the Doctor carefully, “and running from those Judoon that night, well, I know _I_ wasn’t as quick as I could have been this afternoon.”

The Doctor merely shrugged again, not meeting his eyes. “The Tardis probably won’t mind just drifting in the Vortex awhile longer.”

“Alright, then. G’night, Doc.” Jack almost made it out of the room before he tossed back, “You’re still welcome to join me. It’s a big bed, after all. Bit lonely.”

“Good night, Captain.” Firm, not playful at all. Jack had hit a button, he just wasn’t sure which one.

It took him an hour staring at a darkened ceiling in his own room to figure it out, and a short trip to the massive library to confirm a date, and a continent.

**

“Can I make a request?” was such an innocent little question, the Doctor thought to himself as he followed Jack through a market in mid-afternoon frenzy. Such an innocent, easy to answer, question, one that almost made you feel guilty for saying no to, even before he heard it. So of course, he listened to it, and on the surface, he thought it was pretty safe enough to not have to play 50 questions with Jack to find the real reason the immortal man wanted to go to this little world.

Viwaniq Prime was a little world in a little star cluster in the middle of nowhere, with the only consolation prize of having, on the northern continent, an unobstructed view of the Kasterborous constellation. What was left of it, he thought miserably to himself. He found himself moving closer to his immortal friend, the one that he couldn’t seem to get rid of, that he could never get killed. The one he knew would live for thousands and millions of years and see the end of the planet Earth.

Jack knew that the Doctor was falling into one of his pits of self-doubt and self-blame, and slowly falling into the depths of the Lonely God complex he sometimes wore to protect himself. The Oncoming Storm was scary enough, Jack knew from experience. He’d felt just the head-winds when he’d told his friend about Torchwood two years ago in that warehouse. Even that had scared him, making him almost unable to meet the old alien’s eyes. Now those old eyes were dull, and seemed to have little interest in anything that was around them. No interest in the gabbling youth, or the stalls of food and fine drinks that they had been wandering through all afternoon, the Tardis having landed a little too early for Jack’s requirements. But, he mused, turning into a museum of the area’s archaeological digs, better time to kill than being three days too late.

Five hours later, Jack gently coaxed the Doctor away from one particularly engrossing display of ancient hieroglyphs. Sundown was just over an hour ago, and he only had half an hour to get the Doctor to one particular roof. The Doctor was reluctant to leave, notebook in one hand and pencil in the other, having sketched almost the entire thing while peering through his specs. “Jack,” he whined, twisted half out of Jack’s grip. “C’mon, just another half hour, I’ve almost got the whole thing down--”

“We’ll come back tomorrow, Doc. They’re closing up. Now c’mon, we don’t have much time.”

With one last longing look back at the display, the old alien replaced the book and pencil back in his pockets. “Where’re we going, anyway, Jack? You never said _why_ you wanted on this planet. It’s nice, and peaceful, I’ll admit that, and you’ve flirted with nearly everything in sight, including a store dummy, but you can do that anywhere, even in the middle of a planet being hijacked, so I don’t see--”

“Just follow me on this one, Doctor. Now, come on!” Jack had to practically drag the reluctant Time Lord in his wake, moving quickly through crowded streets. Everyone seemed excited and yet, the Doctor noted, sombre and serious. Like a choir backstage, getting ready for a funeral. Thrilled to be performing, aghast and depressed because the reason for it all was loss. He wanted to stop and ask, to find someone who would be willing to tell him what was going on, how such a change could come over everyone from this afternoon, but Jack had a firm grip on his hand. He knew that the ex-Time Agent was not going to stop and chit chat. He hadn’t even flirted with the young woman that he’d gotten directions from a few minutes ago.

Finally, they reached their destination, it seemed. Jack produced a sheaf of papers to an elderly gentleman at an old, rusty gate. The fellow looked through them, gasped once, and looked right at the Doctor for a moment before opening the gates and ushering them through.

“Jack, what’s going on?”

“Shush.” The human bolted up a flight of stairs on the side of the building that the gate’s path had led them to. “Hurry up, Doc.”

Sighing, casting one last look at the now-closed gate, the Doctor followed suit. The stairs went all the way up to the flat roof, almost five stories up. There was a very broad view of one of the larger market squares right below them, or so it seemed. The citizens of this world were milling about the square, all dressed in blacks and deep, deep blues. Jack stood just at the edge of the roof top, looking at his wrist-comp and panting. “Just made it. Not even two minutes. Not bad.”

The Doctor walked closer to the edge and stood next to Jack, apprehensive. “Much as I like a good view, Jack, I don’t really fancy going through another regeneration due to falling and going splat. It hurt quite a bit, actually.”

“We’re safe up here, Doc. There’s a shield half a foot down. Now, shush.”

The Doctor scowled a little, put out at being treated like a seven year old at a playhouse theatre. Looking over the well-lit streets, he marvelled that Earth had never quite got the hang of street lighting and not creating darker shadows for people to be eaten by. This world had figured out just the right distance and flow of energy to ensure that every single part of the walkways and driving paths were well lit and –

The whole city below them went dark in an instant.

He gasped, just a little, as it seemed there was suddenly nothing beneath them. There was dark, and there was this level of dark, when every single light on the continent went out all at once. So dark that space was bright in comparison. So dark that it was scary until your eyes adjusted to the pinpricks of light that were the stars above them.

Jack had slipped an arm around his ribs, holding him steady as he swayed just a little. He couldn’t even see the Time Agent in the dark yet, there wasn’t enough light for his eyes to adjust that quickly—

One light appeared beneath them. It was white.

Another joined it, right beside. Another and another flicked into life as the flames were passed from one to the next, spreading around the edges of the square beneath them. When a thin line had appeared around the entire edge of the square, there was a pause, a moment when nothing and no one moved.

Slowly, the white light spread inwards, swirling in patterns and shapes that the Doctor tried oh so hard not to see, not to read into. For a moment, there had been a glyph representing what the human’s called the concept of responsibility. Another moment passed, and he could have sworn that the lights had flowed in the glyph for ‘never again.’ But those patterns were gone now, only ever written in dusty tomes and scraps of paper stuck onto the Tardis console. Never again to be written in Time and Space, by old hands sitting at worn tables at an Academy full of students in glass Citadels. They were gone… he found himself leaning into his friend’s shoulder, eyes wide and staring at the lights below.

There was nothing but white light now, no patterns, no memories, no words of comfort, even if imagined…

There below them, a single dark red flame, deep and burgundy, flared to life.

It moved slowly, lighting only a few to its colour. Thin lines spread like ink down canvas, running evenly across the flow of white. The light swirled, and circled, and backtracked and skipped spaces, suddenly there, suddenly bright against the white backdrop. The pattern was undeniable, the symbol etched in flame, the entirety of the concept spelled below him in shimmering flames that gave no heat, that burned no flesh, that harmed no one and nothing in the cosmos, written in a language that only he now spoke as a mother tongue:

_We shall always remember. We shall never forget. It was not in vain. Never again shall it come to this. We remember those that fell. We remember those that survived. We remember those who will never be now and who never will be then. Time will pass, memories will fade, but not of this. Never again. We shall always remember._

There were silent tears running down his cheeks, and he didn’t remember sinking to his knees, held upright only by Jack’s strong arms around him. He didn’t remember wrapping his own arms around his friend’s body, or when he started leaning so heavily on his shoulder. He could only stare at the lights, burning brightly for such a long time, eons to him, before they slowly began to disperse.

One by one the lights from the edges of the square began to walk away, spreading throughout the city. As more and more began to leave, the burgundy lights melted into the city as well, until, finally, everywhere around them pinpricks of light were spread below them. Only one light remained in the centre of the square. The Doctor knew, even without looking, that they mirrored the great constellation that was spread out above them in the heavens, save for one star that stood in the square below.

There should have been two.

_We shall always remember._

Never again would there be two. Only one, only the last. One last light in the dark.

_We shall never forget._

Sometimes, the Doctor thought as he leaned into his friend’s embrace, staring into the flame, sometimes one is enough to banish the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I remember the first time I saw the lantern scene in “Tangled”, with all the lanterns floating into the pitch black sky, thinking to myself, someone, somewhere must do the same thing for the beings lost in the Time War. So, here we go. (And now the 10th Doctor is hiding away in the Tardis under a blue blanket from what I’ve been making him feel this last month… *hugs*)


End file.
